


Now is the Time

by chanellywelly



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, M/M, Mpreg, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-20 20:04:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17628794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chanellywelly/pseuds/chanellywelly
Summary: The Accords had happened and now all Tony was left with a burner phone and two pink lines.





	1. Little Pink Lines

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting on here, but i'm really excited! It's been an idea that i've been sitting with for a long time. (still getting used to formatting on here. Sorry about that)

      When Tony Stark was 12 years old he decided he was going to marry Captain America. He had it all planned out, sitting on the floor under the dining room table, tinkering with a broken radio he had found in the basement. Captain America had long since been lost to the arctic, he knew the details from paper clippings he had gather because Howard had refused to talk about it. He knew he’d come back someday though, that’s just what superheroes do. Sitting under the table he had tugged on the heel of Maria Starks shoe, trying to get her to peak her head down under the table and he had whispered his secret to her. She had smiled then, fingers slipping down to card through his hair, but he had seen something nervous in her gaze, something that he couldn’t quite place and wasn’t sure how to ask about. He had known that he was an omega then, but wasn’t fully aware of what that meant. Maria had taught him about his biology, she had taught him about the heats he would have in the future and had very thoroughly and clinically explained why it happened. She wanted him to be educated and to know his own body and what that meant and they both knew that Howard was not going to be the one to have that conversation with him. At 12 years old he hadn’t even known that Steve Rogers was an alpha. Tony had just decided that that Howard was going to succeed in his mission to find him and that someday Tony was going to marry him.

       Now it’s 2016 and Tony Stark is sitting down with his head in his hands, staring down at a test on the table, two pink lines that he can’t stop staring at telling him that he’s pregnant. At first he doesn’t know what to feel. He feels a little sick to his stomach, hyper aware of the bead of sweat that falls down his forehead and onto his brow and hyper aware of the fact that his left hand is shaking almost violently.

       Him and Steve had only slept together twice in the entire time that they had known each other. Once had been on Clint’s farm. The skies had been clear that night, moon filtering through the window shades, Steve’s hair plastered to his forehead and and the hand that wasn’t braced against the bed had been clutching Tony’s hip hard enough to bruise as he whispered soft and gentle praises against Tony’s ear, his pace slow and deep in a way that made Tony’s chest ache. Still made it tighten up with longing when he thought too hard about it. Afterward it had been easy to lie in the dark and talk for hours about everything they hadn’t said before. They talked about Ultron. They talked about Afghanistan and they had even talked about Peggy, Barnes, about Sam, about Rhodey, anything they could think of whether it was good or bad, whether it was hard or easy. Tony’s certain they learned more about each other that night then they had through this entire thing and no matter how hard he tried to push it into the back of his mind he found himself wishing for the firmness of Steve’s chest against his cheek and the welcoming sound of crickets outside the window.

The second time had been eight weeks ago. There was no desperation to it, it had been unhurried and they had taken their time, wanting nothing more than a chance to remember what this felt like and to not have to miss each other. Tony hadn’t thought about protection, he hadn’t thought about anything except the need to feel Steve inside of him.

Afterwards lying on the hotel bed, turned towards each other Steve had smiled. One of his charming, lazy smiles as his lashes had fluttered against his cheeks with his lips still red and swollen and Tony had that thought again. He was going to marry Captain America.

Then the Accords had happened, Steve had left with Barnes and Tony was left with a burner phone and two pink lines.

       The flip phone seems to mock him now, sitting at the table flipped close and blinking with unread text messages that he hadn’t been to stomach opening. Tony reaches for it now and wraps his fingers around it. It’s amazing how something so small and light can feel so heavy in his hands. He knows he has to call Steve. There’s no way around it. All that he can think about is Howard. As a child it wasn’t that Howard hadn’t been there; no, it was more that he had been, but his attention was constantly elsewhere. He had never thrown Tony any birthday parties, he had never shown up for science fairs, or robotics club, he had never looked at the piles of papers on the dining room table each of them containing solid red A’s at the top. He never looked at the reports that Maria taped to the fridge. Every single night though Tony could find him hold up in his office, amber whiskey going down easy and the frown lines on his aging face deepening every time Tony interrupted whatever papers he had been lost in.

Tony didn’t want that for this baby. Tony didn’t want them to grow up without their father. Especially not when he had the choice to do whatever was in his power to make sure that they had them both. And he knew that Steve was going to come. Despite everything that had happened with the accords, despite everything that had happened in Siberia he knew that Steve was going to come for their child. Maybe that’s why it was so hard to pick up the phone. The second he picked it up and pressed that call button he was going to be waiting for Steve’s arrival and nothing was going to stop that. It didn’t matter whether or not Tony was ready to see him. They had something together now that was so much bigger than both of them and there was no sense in putting it off any longer.

       Tony picks up the phone and scrolls down to contacts. It’s irritating, the buttons feel too small for his thumb and it takes him a second to scroll down to the only phone number listed. He takes one more moment of hesitance, taking a deep breath and then letting it out. He thought that he was going to have more time to move forward. He had imagined a long grieving process and some time to examine the angles of why Steve had lied to him, but the time was now and he had to face it now before he felt ready. With that in mind he presses the call button and waits.

It rings once. It rings twice.

On the third ring he catches a breathless “Tony? What happened?”

Tony doesn’t answer at first, just listens to the sound of his voice and takes another round of deep breaths.

“We need to to talk.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to just make this two chapters, but I think it's going to end up being 3 or 4.

      Steve is patient with him and Tony can’t decide if that makes it better or worse. He’s just quite while he figures out what to say next and how to say it. Tony hates fighting with Steve, but he couldn’t deny that sometimes fighting felt a little bit easier than trying to navigate the maze that is making their differences come together and work. 

      “I don’t know how to tell you this. Fuck, I wasn’t ready for this” he can’t help it, the second he starts his mouth doesn’t want to stop “I wasn’t ready to talk to you, I didn’t want to call you. How are we supposed to just- fuck, that’s not why I called. I didn’t call to yell at you or to fight- “

       “- Tony”

 Steve’s voice is gentle, but just a little bit firm. It does the trick, he feels grounded and a little bit nostalgic at the way that he says his name. He's heard a thousand different cadences of Steve's voice and this particular one was always one of his favorites.

       “I’m pregnant, Steve… about 8 weeks.”

       There’s a sharp intake of breath and then silence. Tony knows he’s doing the math, he knows he’s remembering the hotel room up in Boston. It feels like a lifetime ago, but if he concentrates hard enough he can still smell Steve on his skin.

Tony stands from the kitchen tables and wanders out to the back patio. The air is crisp and a little bit chilly, but if feels good against the anxious heat creeping up his neck as he waits for a response. He tries to be as patient as Steve had just been with him, catching the words in his throat and clamping his mouth shut before they escape, demanding some sort of answer from him. He was never the more patient of the of them, he was always ready to charge forward full speed again and Steve was always there to slow him down and remind him to enjoy the moment. 

      “Siberia-” Tony startles, Steve’s voice raising a little and he sounds like he’s in agony. It brings him no joy to hear him like this, he had thought the same thing for those few moments after he saw those two lines. “- We were fighting, Tony, I had you on your back, I hurt you- what about the baby? What if something’s wrong?”

He swallows, his own throat a little tight. “First thing tomorrow morning I’m going in to get that checked out. I think she’s going to be okay. We didn’t know, Steve, there’s no way that we could have known. Starks are resilient and hey, from what I understand, so are Rogers.”   

       Steve’s calms himself on the other end of the line, his breathing evening out as he regains control of himself. Tony wishes more than anything that he could see his face. He wants to see his expressions and he wants to able to read what’s going through his head. He’d always been so expressive since the beginning. It was so easy for Tony to read his emotions, his anger, his sadness, his joy, his pleasure, they were always open and accessible to him and it feels unfair to not be able to to have that for something as important as this.

 Tony scrubs his hand over his face and sits in one of the patio chairs, nervously letting his knee bounce up and down, his palm falling down onto his knee to try and still himself.

“I’d like to come home, Tony. We can figure everything else out, but I want to be there for this”

Tony feels a little guilty that Steve seems to be nervous as he poses his thought, scared that he might get turned down, that he might not be able to come home. He’s aware that if circumstances were different that might have been the case. Right now though it only seems right.

 “I’ll be here waiting”

  
      He makes an appointment with his doctor the next day and it goes smoothly and he lets himself soak up the flood of relief that comes when the doctor informs him that the baby is perfectly healthy and the pregnancy is moving along beautifully. He’s given an expected due date and recommended prenatal vitamins and sent on his way with a sonogram. Happy drives him home and he sits in the back and stares at it. The baby is still small enough that there’s not much to make out on paper, but he traces his finger over the small little shape the doctor had showed him. Tony is absolutely certain that he’s never loved something so much in his entire life and his hand moves from the sonogram down to rest on his stomach and he hopes that they can feel everything he’s feeling. Love, gratitude, excitement, fear. He vows to be a good and loving father.

       Steve’s not there when he gets home. He isn’t there at dinner time and he still isn’t there when he falls asleep. Friday alerts him of someone entering the compound however around 3 am and Tony gets up and wraps himself in a robe, heading down the stairs with his heart racing. He knows it's him and he feels a little sick to his stomach with nerves and anticipation. Siberia hadn’t been that long ago and no matter how much he tells himself that it’s too soon to be doing this a more powerful instinct in him says that he doesn’t want to waste any more time fighting. Not with a baby on the way. Steve’s standing in the doorway looking unsure and more afraid than Tony has ever seen him. He’s got a beard too, it’s darker than the rest of his hair and Tony finds himself imagining what it would feel like under his fingertips. Whether it would be soft or rough. He doesn’t have long to dwell on it though because just a moment later Steve catches sight of him and his expression morphs into something that Tony isn’t sure how to read.

       “How is she?” he asks and Tony reaches into the pocket of his robe and grabs the sonogram he had swiped off of the bedside table, passing it over to Steve.

       “Healthy and about the size of a berry.” He comes over and points at the little marking on the image. “That’s her. She’s just a miniature little shrimp alien right now.”

 Steve laughs at that and it comes out watery and thick. He follows where Tony’s finger had been and touches it with his own. He pulls back before their fingers can bump and watches him take it all in. He can see him processing and he can see all of those thoughts, emotions and feelings that he had himself splaying across Steve’s face. Tony wants to touch him so badly, he wishes more than anything they could just forget for a little while what happened between them.

      “One thing we can be certain of is that she’s going to be one cute kid” Steve says, finally raising his head to meet Tony’s gaze. 

 Tony doesn’t comment on the fact that Steve keeps calling the baby a she already, he finds it a little endearing actually and he moves a little closer. He lets them bask in the moment, but then finally he raises his eyes to meet Steve's and finds him already watching him, his gaze sharp and focused. 

       “I don’t even know where to begin” Steve says looking at him. “I feel like I had this all figured out last night, everything that I wanted to say, but now you're standing here and I can’t seem to remember a single damn thing. I guess first and foremost I want to tell you that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about your parents, I should have the second that I found out and there’s no denying that it was selfish. I’m not going to defend or deny my actions-”

        “- Steve stop” Tony says cutting him off “You’ve said this all before, you said it in your letter it’s not going to mean anything for me to hear it all over again.”

 Steve looks a little bit wounded for just a second but then he recovers, taking a slow and steady breath and biting down anxiously on his bottom lip. Tony’s not sure what he wants out of him, or what he wants to hear and he thinks it might be awhile before he does. 

       “I’m sorry for going after Barnes.” Tony says because he still can’t bring himself to say his name. “I know it wasn’t his fault and i’ve come to terms with that, but I’m going to need a lot more time to move on and work past what was on that tape. Every time I close my eyes I still see his hands around my mother’s throat.”

 Steve flinches at that and Tony almost reaches out to touch his wrist, but he doesn’t give in to the impulse. Instead he holds out his hand to coax Steve in for a hand shake. Steve looks doubtful but then finally holds his hand out and locks it together with Tony’s.

       “I promise i’m going to try to move forward, but it’s going to take some time.” He says. Steve looks resigned as he nods his head, giving his hand a little bit of a squeeze.

        “I’m going to do whatever it takes to make you trust me again, Tony. I promise you that.” Tony squeezes back and allows his hand fall back down to his side. It’s not exactly where he wants to be, but it’s enough for now.


	3. Night

It doesn’t take long for the morning sickness to really hit. Tony wakes up at 3:30, pushing himself out of bed and making it to the bathroom just in time, gripping the side of the toilet, his cheeks flushed and his throat burning. The smell of porcelain makes another wave of sick wrack through him, his stomach clenching violently. He takes a few calming breaths using techniques he had learned for his anxiety to try and feel more in control of his body and after a few moments it does actually help. There’s a soft hesitant knock on the door and Steve carefully pushes the door open, poking his head through the gap and once Tony sees him he stepps fully into the bathroom, holding a hot and steaming mug that smells like tea and he moves so he’s not kneeling over the toilet and faces him.

“Peppermint” He explains before kneeling down next to tony and pressing the warm mug to his palm, holding it until his fingers wrap around it. 

Their fingers brush as he takes it, and Tony gives him a little nod in thanks, pushing the mug to his lips and sipping it slowly. It’s on the verge of too hot, but it soothes his aching throat and he tries not to drink too much to fast and make himself sick all over again. Steve looks tired, he notes, but he also looks much more relaxed. It’s been two weeks since he arrived and while they’ve still been sort of dancing around spending time together, they’ve gotten into a comforting routine in their own spaces and he seems to have moved past constantly walking on eggshells when he’s around Tony. Steve’s shifts so he can sit comfortably, leaning against the bathtub and watching Tony adjust so that he’s sitting back against the cupboard. They don’t say anything for awhile, but it’s not uncomfortable and it almost feels a little bit like how it used to be when Steve would lounge around the workshop, working on one of his tablets while Tony finished up a project. 

“I was thinking maybe we could paint the baby’s room” Steve says finally breaking the silence, watching Tony carefully for a reaction. 

Tony considers it. He likes the idea of them doing it together instead of hiring someone. Plus he thinks it will give them something to keep Steve from getting bored while Tony tries to figure out how to navigate the accords. He doesn’t want Steve trapped in this house forever, especially with the baby coming. Tony takes another long drink of his tea and then sets it on the bathroom counter, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, feeling significantly less nauseous.

“I’d like that” He says finally and Steve looks relieved, maybe even a little overwhelmed and Tony tilts his head a bit at the reaction. “We can go over color pallets and designs. I think it might be really fun to do it ourselves.”

He slowly reaches his hand out to let his fingers rest against Steve’s ankle and it feels like he’s moving in slow motion. It’s the most they’ve touched since the entire mess started and his eyes fall closed and Tony doesn’t even think Steve is aware of how deep of a breath he takes. Tony keeps his hand there, letting his thumb brush against Steve’s ankle and watches the goosebumps that break out over his legs and even up along his arms. It hits him that he’s never seen Steve in shorts before this. He’s wearing basketball shorts that end at the knee and he looks ridiculous. Tony lets out a huff of laughter before he can stop himself and Steve’s eyes snap back open and he looks at him gaze narrowing in question, but the corners of his mouth also morph into a smile.

“You have hairy ankles” he explains, and drags his fingers along the fine blonde hairs before pulling his hand back. Steve looks disappointed at the loss of contact, but Tony counts it as a great stride towards their relationship reaching something more than sneaking around each other and avoiding eye contact.

Tony moves to get up and Steve gets up faster, reaching to grab his hand and help him up. Tony can’t imagine how much he’s going to fret when he’s a little bigger or when he gets so round that he can’t even see his own feet. He’s looking forward to that, he can’t wait to be able to feel the baby move and kick. He can tell Steve has been holding back in being as involved with everything as he wants to be and he can’t help but feel a little guilly at that. Just as he had expected after finding out about the baby Steve had thrown himself all in and did all that he could as long as he perceived it didn’t cross any of Tony’s boundaries. He found the pregnancy books around the house, he’d seen the search history on his computer with Steve googling anything from swaddling babies in their blankets, to googling what brand of baby food is the healthiest. And Tony can tell that he’s excited. Before Steve goes to leave the bathroom Tony grabs his wrist this time, feeling his pulse jack rabbit under his thumb. Here in the dark in the middle of the night these touches feel safe.

“I have a check up in a couple of days” Tony tells him. “I’d really like it if you could come.” 

Steve looks so overjoyed that Tony turns his head away. It makes his chest lurch and he feels momentarily blown away by how little Steve hids from him now, his expressions always written on his face. He knows he’s trying to get Tony’s trust back and he’s purposefully being as open and vulnerable as he can. He wants to get to a point where he can give that back to him, but he’s just not there yet. Even knowing that though, Steve doesn’t stop or inhibit himself, he tries not to hide anything.

“I’ll be there” Steve promises. 

Realizing he’s still holding his wrist Tony lets his grip loosen and watches Steve’s hand fall back down to his side. He looks like he wants to say something, but whatever it is he shakes his head and he smiles at Tony, soft and closed mouth and Tony’s stomach lurches this time for an entirely different reason.

“I’ll see you in the morning” Steve says and moves back in the direction of his room, leaving Tony standing, chest tight with longing. 

Tony goes back into the bathroom to brush his teeth and then goes back to his room, slipping under the covers. His bed feels huge and empty and he’s hyper aware of Steve moving around a couple doors down. It’s like that often, Tony can hear him unsettled and wandering around a lot of the time. Tonight the sound of his movements and his restlessness is deafening. It would be so easy to go into his room and slip into bed with him and Tony clenches his fist to avoid giving in to the temptation. He stares up at the ceiling, his thoughts drifting back to Clint’s farm again as it often does. The memory of waking up wrapped up in Steve’s arms never gets less vivid and he can’t forget the feeling of his big, solid hand spanning across his stomach and Steve had used it to pull him even closer and bury his face between his shoulders. He had been a goner then and he should have known he was never going to get over Steve Rogers. His throat burns with emotion he rolls on his side and tugs the blankets more securely around himself, managing to slip into an uneasy sleep and he swears it feels like he can feel Steve’s lips brush across the back of his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: www.twitter.com/justiceforjude  
> tumblr: captainstvrk.tumblr.com


End file.
